


hard to love you

by sinfuldesire_archivist



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2007-01-21
Updated: 2007-01-21
Packaged: 2018-09-06 09:41:00
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8745238
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinfuldesire_archivist/pseuds/sinfuldesire_archivist
Summary: Follow up to Way Back Home.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Note from the Sinful Desire archivists: this story was originally archived at [Sinful-Desire.org](http://fanlore.org/wiki/Sinful_Desire). To preserve the archive, we began importing its works to the AO3 as an Open Doors-approved project in November 2016. We e-mailed all creators about the move and posted announcements, but may not have reached everyone. If you are (or know) this creator, please contact us using the e-mail address on [Sinful Desire collection profile](http://archiveofourown.org/collections/sinfuldesire/profile).

_Why do they make it hard to love you?_

 

He must have been seeing things. Had too many beers. Or had finally snapped. Because there was no way that his baby brother was standing only ten feet away from him at the bar. 

 

His goody two shoes brother, his Ivy League, take off and leave the family brother couldn’t be illegally drinking at a bar in the middle of nowhere in the wrong damn state.

 

Sam was in California, at Stanford, living his normal existence while Dean kept going on his own. Dad was following a lead in Iowa, leaving Dean to, well, to do what he did best outside of hunting. 

 

Hustle and fuck.

 

So there was no way that his malfunctioning brain could be right about this. Of all things, it could not be right about this. He moved further down the pool table, making sure to keep his smirk firmly in place for anyone who was watching. And most especially for the imaginary or non-imaginary younger brother at the bar in case he got any crazy notions of crushing what was left of his ego or his good time. 

 

If it was Sam, he wasn’t sure what he would do. What he should do. Sam had left, had made his decision, what the hell would he be doing in a place like this? He’d only been away for about a month, surely he hadn’t decided on a road trip with new friends in the middle of his first semester. It was too spontaneous, too rash, it was too Dean for it to be Sam.

 

The further he moved down the table, making his half hearted smart ass remarks to support his game face, the surer he became that it was his younger brother. His head was bent in thought and he was gripping his beer bottle with more intensity than most. Or at least more than those who liked their hands in one piece.

 

It was angsty enough to be his brother, but still not possible. At least that’s what his head was telling him. His lower extremities and heart however disagreed completely. 

 

_Why can't they even start to try?_

 

Scowling briefly he returned his attention to the game at hand. He had money to win in order to keep the family business going. Or at least to keep his ass going for the time being, credit card scams were always an option later. Now, after seeing Sam at the bar though he had a feeling he’d be spending more money on drinks than usual. A hell of a lot more.

 

Five minutes later and the game was his. As if there had ever been any doubt. Dean grinned and rested his hip against the edge of the pool table. Tonight was definitely his night. This town was full of suckers just waiting to be taken for a ride. Not to mention plenty of girls to keep him busy otherwise.

 

And his frustrating younger brother, while annoyingly still present, was leaving him the hell alone. Not that Dean was sure he’d even seen him. But if he hadn’t, he intended to keep it that way. At least until he figured things out.

 

That was of course assuming there was anything to figure out. He didn’t know why Sam was there or for how long. This could be some trip with a friend that would last a few hours. He could be in and out of the bar before Dean was too drunk to remember his own name. Pity. 

 

A petite blonde sitting in a booth to his left smiled invitingly at him and he almost missed it because his gaze kept landing on the brooding eighteen year old with puppy dog eyes, following his every movement. 

 

Sam stood and looked directly at him, forcing Dean to turn and grin crookedly at the girl in the booth. He felt a small pang of guilt for leading her on, but he didn’t have a choice. He needed to look distracted, busy, or maybe to just blend in when his brother looked his way.

 

Watching from the corner of his eye he saw Sam hesitate as if in recognition before shaking his head and moving towards the door. Dean’s stomach dropped as the door swung open and Sam stepped outside. In and out of his life once was torture, but twice, that was unforgivable. 

 

Sidestepping the blonde he’d led on, he followed Sam from the bar. Just to make sure he got to wherever he was going safely, he told himself. Because he didn’t know if Sam was there alone or how he’d gotten there in the first place. He was only looking out for Sam he promised himself. 

 

When Sam left the bar he headed down the street towards a run down motel on foot, his duffel bag slung over his shoulder, something Dean hadn’t noticed until now. Whatever he was doing here, he was doing it alone and for more than a day, Dean quickly realized. _Stupid move Sammy, letting your guard down like that_ , he groused. He knew Sam wasn’t drunk. He’d only had a couple beers and he was alert, just not alert enough if he didn’t notice his older brother following behind him.

 

_'Cause now I feel a bridge is burning_

_And all the smoke is in my eyes_

 

Unfortunately for his already pounding head waiting for Sam to come out of the office gave him a lot of time to think about the way things had ended. Sammy crying with his arms locked around him, stroking his hair. It was the most Dean could give or say; his touch. And he’d given as much of it as he could stand. 

 

 

**Dean pressed his face into Sam’s hair, breathing him in. He didn’t want Sam to go, but he didn’t want to hurt him either. He was his younger brother and he should be happy for him. Proud of him.**

**As if he could be any prouder.**

**But it hurt to let go of him. It was selfish and so unlike him it shook him down to the core. He had let things go too far with Sammy as it was. Keeping him from college to stay in this twisted relationship of theirs was unthinkable.**

**He hugged Sam tighter, kissing down the back of his neck. He wanted to tell him he loved him, say something that made this easier, or maybe harder, for him. But he couldn’t. He didn’t trust himself not to say something stupid like _Stay Sammy, please._ **

**So he did what he could, what he knew. Touches. Kisses. Silent reassurances that he was still here for Sam no matter how much it broke his heart.**

**Sam tilted his face up to stare at his brother. His eyes wide and glittering with fresh tears, his lower lip trembling almost as hard as the rest of him. Dean couldn’t stand to see him like that, but he didn’t know what else to do. Not without breaking what was left of him.**

**Dean stroked his hair and led him backwards toward the bed. If he was leaving in the morning he needed to get some sleep, and he wasn’t going to get any sleep thinking Dean hated him. Something that could never happen except in his brother’s overworked brain.**

**Sam curled against Dean’s chest, wrapping his arms around Dean’s neck in a death grip like he did when he was younger and upset with him for leaving him alone with dad. Even if it was only for a few minutes.**

**The irony of it stung, but he held back, letting Sam have what he needed. Slowly Sam stopped crying, his sobs turned to hiccups, and then to quiet sniffling before he finally fell into a deep sleep.**

**Dean tried but he couldn’t sleep, it was useless. So he held Sam for as long as he could. His brother was usually an earlier riser and he needed to be out of there long before he woke. This was the only goodbye he would give him. It would probably be better for the both of them that way anyhow.**

**He slid quietly from the bed and stood for a moment watching Sam sleep. It seemed like just yesterday dad had handed him Sam and put him in charge of him. He’d been only a baby, small and soft in his arms. He’d clung to Dean even then. And Sam had owned Dean’s heart ever since.**

**When things got really bad, or one or both of them nearly died this was how he dealt with it. Sam wanted to talk and share his feelings, but Dean just watched Sam sleep. Knowing that he was still alive and that he could still protect him, made him forget any left over tension or fear. Because right then Sam was safe.**

**Sam’s face was pressed into the pillow, rolling over onto his stomach now that Dean wasn’t there for him to hold onto. His t-shirt rode up revealing taunt muscle beneath golden skin. He was so different from the baby he’d been put in charge of seventeen years ago. Grown up now and it was hard to accept.**

**Shaking free of his thoughts Dean pulled his t-shirt over his head and folded it up. It was his favorite t-shirt and he wanted Sam to have it. If he wanted to remember Dean he’d keep it, if he didn’t, well…Dean didn’t want to know. He shoved it Sam’s duffel bag along with a wad of money he’d been saving for several months now.**

**He knew this day was coming. He’d prepared even as he hoped Sam would change his mind.**

**Sam shifted then, moaning. He didn’t have much time before Sam woke and he couldn’t be there. He couldn’t. Taking one last look at his younger brother he grabbed his keys from the table and silently made his way out of Sam’s life.**

 

Sam ran his hands through his hair, pushing the office door open with his foot and breaking Dean free of his thoughts. That had only been a month ago, but it’d seemed like years. 

 

He watched Sam make his way around the side of the office to a back room. Taking note of the room number he turned and headed back to the bar for a few more drinks. He suddenly felt the need to drink himself into oblivion and spend the next morning regretting it over a motel toilet. 

 

At least a pounding headache would leave little room for thought if any. And if it did, well there was always the option of reliving that night. How long could Sam stay? He had to be back at school surely. He’d just started, it was hard to image he had the time to be here for more than a day, if that. Leaving Dean with more questions than ever.

 

He’d made it halfway back inside the bar when his gaze landed on the blonde from earlier. It made his stomach sour to think of how quick he’d been to dismiss her just because Sam had been in the same bar. Or how quick he’d been to leave in the first place. 

 

Sam still had that hold over him, the one that made him do the dumbest shit just to take care of him or do what he thought his brother would want. Like abandoning a petite blonde with curves in all the right places out of some damn twisted sense of loyalty to him. 

 

There was no use in staying here. He wasn’t going to do be able to do anything other than think of Sam. He’d already ruined the night for him; he might as well take off. Sighing, he walked backwards through the door and out to the parking lot. So much for drinking himself into oblivion. That was one thing he’d be sure to make up for once Sam was gone. 

 

Grumbling he reluctantly climbed into the Impala for the first time in his life and headed back to Sam’s motel room. He didn’t know what the hell he was doing this for but it seemed like he had to. If for no other reason than to look out for Sam. His guard was down and that was dangerous, no matter how well taught he was. 

 

If Sam had just stayed with them things would be okay now. There would be no unanswered questions, no agonizing, nothing. Their lives had been simple in their complexity. Now it was nothing but one absolute mess; what was left of their family completely ripped apart.

 

_I realize I never let them know me_

_I always wanted to be right_

 

Even as he thought it Dean knew it wasn’t fair to lay all the blame on Sam. He hadn’t made it easy on him, always making him work for his affection. Or at least work for his more obvious affection. He was afraid to let Sam see him, to see all of him. Because he’d known somewhere deep down that Sam was going to leave. 

 

Sam had always been meant for something more, he knew that. Dad had known it and that was probably why he’d gotten so angry. He hadn’t wanted anyone else to know it. 

 

So he’d kept some things to himself, like the way he felt for Sam. He let some of it out when they were alone together, dad away on some hunt, just the two of them lying wrapped up in each other in some dark, rundown motel. Even that wasn’t much though. Sam was always half asleep when he told him he loved him and kissed his forehead, before falling asleep himself. Never awake enough for him to hold it against him the next day.

 

_Took a mistake to really show me_

 

But Dean had thought that maybe Sam would change his mind, that what they’d had would be enough. With or without the chick flick moments his younger brother seemed to be more inclined to.

 

Then when Sam had gotten the letter from Stanford, the full ride, he’d waited it out for a little while. Waited for Sam to say, just fucking with you, and fall into Dean’s arms all over again.

 

Instead they fought. Harsh words, angry glares. There was no more waiting. No more hoping. Only betrayal and pain. 

His big mistake, outside of falling in love with his younger brother, was thinking that he was enough to make him stay, to forget that he deserved more. So if he was honest and if he was fair, he hadn’t made things all that hard for Sam to walk away. He hadn’t given him much to stay for.

 

But Dean didn’t want to be honest and he didn’t want to be fair. He wanted to be angry at Sam for leaving no matter how little he’d offered. 

 

_Exactly what they were like_

 

Anger wasn’t even the right word. There was no word for the mess his emotions had become. Just confusion. This had been coming since day one, so why was he so damn surprised? Why was it so hard for him to just move past? He’d been hurt before, it wasn’t like this had been the only devastating moment in his life. There’d been plenty of those. He’d lost his mother, in some ways even his father, his life, and anything normal he had ever known. 

 

He was four when things went wrong and he’d accepted that like everything else. He’d accepted responsibility for Sam, for his family, for the world. That was a lot of responsibility to put on anyone’s shoulders, let alone a four year old boy who had just lost his mother. And maybe that was exactly it.

 

_I've been wrong but I've been changing_

 

When Sam had left Dean had been lost. His whole world had been turned completely upside down for the first time since he was four. No matter how often they moved, how many things they fought, how many names, places, or faces, there’d always been a constant in his life. 

His family.

 

Now, he didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. He was so used to caring for someone, looking out for Sam and making sure he had everything he needed and when he could, wanted. With Sam gone all that was left was dad. And all dad needed was someone to hunt with.

 

It just wasn’t the same.

 

Dean had to change. He had to adapt to this new emptiness in his life if he was going to survive. He couldn’t run the risk of being distracted or letting himself feel because it would only get him killed. And dad, well dad was pushing aside his own feelings. Dean didn’t know what they were or if they were even on the same page. Dad went forward, Sam went forward, but Dean had been stuck.

 

_I've been wondering what to do_

 

Yawning he slid further down in his seat and stared at Sam’s door. What the hell was he going to do? He shouldn’t be sitting outside Sam’s motel room as if he were waiting for him, he knew that much. Really, if he was honest with himself, he knew he shouldn’t be there at all.

 

Dean should have hauled ass out of that town as quick as he could. No questions, no wondering, nothing. He was only hurting himself more, waiting out there like an idiot. As if Sam had suddenly changed his mind and wanted to stay with Dean and with dad.

 

He had called Dean’s cell phone on more than one occasion, always hanging up before he had a chance to get to it. Ringing once, twice, maybe three times before his brother came to his senses and hung up. Dean found himself running his thumb back and forth over the keypad, itching to hit the send button, to call Sam back and see what it was his little brother wanted or needed.

 

Sometimes he wondered if everything had just been about sex and that was what Sam wanted now but was too embarrassed to ask for it. Or if he was just lonely and missing Dean. That was the thought that kept him from calling Sam back because that was exactly how he was feeling. And when he got around Sam, even if it was just over the phone, he said and did stupid things just to make him happy. No matter what that meant for him.

 

If Sam was calling because he wanted someone to talk to, to just hear Dean’s voice like he wanted to hear Sam’s it would only bring trouble. He’d find himself stupidly driving up to California to be with him for even just a few minutes. And that was stupid. 

 

_Here I am alone and waiting_

_For you_

 

Not just stupid, but crazy. So crazy, it made sitting outside Sam’s motel room, practically stalking him, seem almost normal. He felt like an idiot. This wasn’t doing any good. In fact it was doing more bad than good. He’d been outside Sam’s motel room for hours, the sun was coming up, and he hadn’t slept in days. He was screwing things up all over again. 

 

He couldn’t deny that he had loose ends to tie up with Sam. Maybe that was why he was sitting here, because he knew that he needed to tie things up with him if he was ever going to move on with his life. Or at least move on as much as he could. There was always going to be an emptiness in him as long as Sam was gone, but the rest were wounds he just wasn’t trying to heal. 

 

Dean made a decision then. As much as he hated being without Sam, he didn’t want to die either. There was still dad and the hunt to live for and maybe something more someday, something he wouldn’t let himself think about now or ever unless that day came. There was no use in disappointments. Either way he didn’t want to give up without a fight and he wasn’t sure how much strength he would have to fight with all this confusion and pain sapping his energy.

 

He had to make things right with Sam. Had to be completely honest with him about everything, about how he felt about Sam leaving, how proud he secretly was that Sam had gotten into an Ivy League with a full ride despite so many things that had tried to stop him, dad and Dean especially, and most importantly how he felt about Sam. 

 

There were too many things left unsaid between them and it was holding him back. They were the reason he was stuck while his dad and his brother kept moving on. Dean didn’t want to be stuck anymore. He wanted to be able to move on and fight like he’d always done. He wasn’t used to feeling this helpless and he never wanted to feel this way again.

 

His mind made up Dean pulled out of the motel and headed a few blocks down to the same diner he’d stopped at the night before. If he was going to do this he was going to need coffee and he was pretty sure that Sam would too. They were both going to need _a lot_ of coffee. 

 

Tequila would probably be better, but they were going to have to settle for coffee because there was no point in admitting everything if Sam wasn’t going to remember it the next day. It kind of defeated the purpose. 

 

_Why do I try and make them happy?_

 

Stretching his sore muscles from sitting so long he smiled at the woman behind the counter, letting his natural charm ooze out. Just because he was falling apart didn’t mean he had to make someone else miserable. Especially not a pretty thing like her. 

 

She blushed furiously and took his order. He made small talk while she filled his to go cups with hot, black coffee, making sure not to lay it on too thick. He was trying to be a nice guy, not lead her on to reject her like he’d done to the blonde from the bar last night. 

 

Sam had distracted him enough to hurt one girl; he wasn’t going to let him do it again. He’d already thrown his life all out of whack. Well, more out of whack than it already was anyway. 

 

He was after all agonizing over his younger brother leaving him for college. That was a normal thing, for a normal family. They were anything but normal. If it wasn’t obvious by the way they lived and the things they did, then the fucking his younger brother should really have been the big tip off. 

 

And he was sick of it. Sick of all of it. Sam got to move onto bigger and better things and while Dean loved dad and knew that this was his life, was something he was meant to do, he couldn’t help but hate how stuck he felt now. At least with Sam there he’d had someone.

 

Someone to love and protect, to focus on. Now all he did was obsess it seemed. His every waking thought was about Sam and how he was doing at Stanford. If he was okay or if he was feeling like a freak, something he’d complained about for most of their lives as they moved in and out of schools. 

 

Sam made him feel stupid and out of his element. Especially now. But that wasn’t going to last for much longer because this was over.

 

_Why am I always playing nice?_

 

Dean wasn’t sitting outside of his little brother’s motel room like an idiot until he left. Stomping all over Dean’s heart for the second time in a month. He was going to get answers from him one way or another and there was no backing down from it this time.

 

No kisses and a duffel full of money and his favorite shirt, the biggest chick flick move of his life. This time he was going to demand answers and he was going to tell Sam exactly what he was thinking and how he felt seeing him do this all over again.

 

_It isn't easy trying to tell you_

_Exactly what's on my mind_

 

It was hard for him to love Sam because he felt like he was hurting him more than anything. He was supposed to protect Sam, take care of him and it was more like taking advantage of him. 

 

Dean knew how dad would see whatever this thing between them had been, how anyone would see it. It was wrong and disgusting, unthinkable that he could hurt his younger brother like that. 

 

He hated himself because of it. Hated that he could do those things to Sam and not care what anyone would think of him. It was what they would think about Sam that got to him. He couldn’t stand to think of someone hurting Sam, labeling him the freak his brother feared he was because Dean couldn’t control his God damn hormones. He loved his brother in all the ways he shouldn’t and he’d dragged Sam into that sickness.

 

Despite all of that he’d really tried before with Sam. But it hadn’t been enough. He could accept that, like he’d accepted he was going to hell and like he’d accepted that he’d ruined his brother and could actually look at himself in the mirror. Sometimes.

 

He could even accept that his brother deserved more than he could give him. More than most could give him. But what he couldn’t accept was that Sam had left without knowing everything. Dean was going to be a man about this and tie up every loose end between them if it killed him and his ego. He wasn’t going to spend the rest of his life hunting and brooding. It wasn’t healthy, it wasn’t smart, and it sure the hell wasn’t Dean. 

 

Running away hadn’t been the answer then and it wasn’t the answer now.


End file.
